Nothing Like A NearDeath Experience
by straightontillcaliginosity
Summary: In which Arthur fights off wee magical beasties before his wedding. M/A oneshot


**Title**: nothing like a good old near death experience

**Summary**: In which Arthur fights off wee magical beasties before his wedding. M/A

**Pairing**: Merlin/Arthur

**Fandom**: Merlin

**Disclaimer**: Don't own Arthur. Don't own Merlin. Do own unnatural monsters, though.

**A/N**: THIS was written to deal with the upcoming Arthur/Gwen wedding. Because I have Upset Feelings about that. Also I said I'd write something if my PMR (huge nation-wide examination we kids of my age have to take this year) results were good. And surprisingly enough they were :')

This is for all the nights spent staring at my Geography book, trying to make sense of the squiggly map lines. And all the times I could've been staring at Colin Morgan's face, but was memorizing chapter 58 of my PI book. And all the squeeing over Merthur I missed, trying to remember the name of a long-dead ruler I probably won't hear about for the rest of my life.

It was worth it.

* * *

><p>The huge scary pissed off looking mutated-gorilla of a beast is advancing upon Arthur again.<p>

"I thought you were dying," snaps Arthur, and raises his sword again, but he's weak: he's already fought off about six of this stubborn huge-ass creatures and he just wants to go back home to Camelot, collapse onto his bed and sleep.

Unfortunately, these absurdly stupid monster thingies don't seem to get that.

He's about to drive his sword between the beast's eyes- its weakest point- and straight through its brain, but the bloody creature, displaying way better reflexes and more than unusual intelligence than is the norm for its kind, sidesteps the thrust and, as Arthur is regaining his balance, swipes at him with a stubby paw. And okay, that doesn't sound like it hurts that much, but its paw is bloody huge and its claws are long, untrimmed and kind of lethally poisonous.

Arthur falls, sword thudding to the earth; the beast looks satisfied that he won't pass the path they're guarding, after all, and ambles away, sniffing at its armpit.

Damn. Arthur'd always hoped for a more dignified passing. Not death by the hands of a huge flea-picking armpit-sniffing mutant ape with no brains to speak of.

The poison starts coursing through his veins; impatient, pulsing, it's making him sleepy. It's fast-acting, at least.

Shouldn't it be time for Merlin to come to the rescue?

Any minute now, Merlin. Arthur lets his normally forbidden thoughts dwell on his manservant's long neck, the exact curve of his lips. The way his skin looks when it's flushed. The poison's making its way steadily closer to Arthur's heart, eager to swallow its beat with its poisonous own.

Merlin, Merlin, Merlin. But he hadn't actually told anyone where he was going- he'd crept out in the early morning with his sword and his horse, not sure himself about where he was headed. And so Arthur is forced to think, as the poison drumbeats quickly through his body- maybe this time you aren't coming. Maybe this one danger you couldn't save me from.

Maybe this time i'll never get to see your eyes light up with laughter again.

Which is when he hears footsteps thudding across the hard earth- hears, as if from miles away, the panicked "Arthur!", feels warm gentle hands at his forehead, his hair, his shoulder. He blinks his eyes open but can't see clearly- it's all shimmery and shivery, like summer haze. He sees, blurrily, pale skin, though; absurdly perfect cheekbones. Dark hair and worried eyes. He closes his eyes again.

"You're late, Merlin," he tries to say, but it comes out as an unintelligable grunt.

"Shh," soothes Merlin, and Arthur does, poison moving ever nearer to his heart. Faster, too, as if it knows someone's there to stop it.

Arthur sighs. It would be so easy to give in, to surrender to it.

"What- no!" and Merlin's suddenly all panicky and high near Arthur's ear.

Arthur'd tell him to shut up, but his tongue feels heavy. He's sleepier than he's ever been before in his life.

"Arthur, you idiot, you complete arse, listen to me. Don't you dare, Arthur, you lazy prat, don't you dare sleep. You idiot. Arthur!"

Really, how is he supposed to sleep with Merlin's loud shrilling so close to his ear.

"No, Arthur, please, don't- stupid antidote, which is it, oh, oh, please, let this be it. Arthur, oh, please, don't, you can't."

The voice sounds heartbroken and desperate, now. Arthur wants to soothe him, make it all better, but he's just a bit- just a bit too tired.

But then his mouth is being forced open, and a sudden new kind of liquid is coursing its way through him- slower than the poison, more painful, stinging- but steady. Healing.

"Please. Please. You can't- you can't leave me."

And Arthur wants to tell him to please stop crying, it's all right, he'll never leave Merlin. Not ever. And he finds his tongue is movable again and he tries it out with a "Hi."

And he tries out his eyes, too, and they're working again and the whole world is clear and he sees a beautiful, dear, tear-stained face against a bright blue sky.

And Merlin attacks him, quite literally; he throws himself on Arthur and wraps his arms around his neck and says, muffled, into it, "I thought I'd lost you don't ever do that again I hate you so much you stupid arse."

Arthur tentatively puts his arms around Merlin, and they stay like that for a long while, strength and warmth and comfort, so close, so easy.

Merlin says, "You worried Gwen."

and Arthur thinks, Oh. Gwen. And he realises he hasn't thought about her at all, didn't thought about her smile or the way she moves her hands or the way her skin feels against his during those almost-last moments.

And he remembers why he was out fighting random enormous mutated creatures in the first place- because he'd been thinking. About Gwen, and about Merlin. About love and obligation and about what he owed himself and what he owed the kingdom. And he'd run off, thinking maybe it was just pre-wedding nerves and he'd be able to fight it off.

Except it hadn't been, and Arthur knows, sure and certain as the setting sun, what he has to do now.

And he wraps his arms a little bit tighter around Merlin, and Merlin sighs deep and relieved into Arthur's neck, and maybe Arthur will look for that beast later and thank him.


End file.
